


A little stuck

by magicalcookie664



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Desperation, I wrote this at nighttttttt, Omorashi, Wetting, and you can tellllll, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20550239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalcookie664/pseuds/magicalcookie664
Summary: Aziraphale needs to pee... but Crowley's sleeping ontop of him.I haven't written omorashi in ages I'm sorry I do try. :,)





	A little stuck

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written omorashi in ages! Plus this is my first omens one! I'm sorry if it's terrible. :,(

Aziraphale wakes up from his lovely dream about- well, he can't really remember, but that doesn't matter- to a pulsing pain in his abdomen that can only mean one thing. He blinks a few times, still bleary from sleep, and moves to get out of bed. Only he can't. 

Wrapped tightly around him is an arm. Crowley's arm. The demon in question is lying sprawled across the bed, half on the mattress, half on top of Aziraphale. He's sound asleep, face pressed into the pillow as if he'd face planted onto it, snoring quietly. He looks peaceful. 

Aziraphale doesn't want to wake him, but the constant ache below his stomach, continuously protesting every time he breathes, leaves him little choice. He briefly considers trying to fall back asleep, but he doubts he'll be able to survive much longer without an.... accident. No. He definitely has to go. He sets to work almost immediately, edging himself slowly towards the end of the mattress, wincing as every movement jostles his full bladder. 

He doesn't look like it, but Crowley has an iron grip, one that Aziraphale finds himself unable to dislodge himself from. "Oh come on you fool," he hisses, struggling to free himself from the demon's holds 

Crowley sighs softly in his sleep, his grip tightening around Aziraphale, tugging him closer as if he were an oversized teddy bear. Any other time he would funds it utterly endearing. Just not now. Not when he's on the verge of wetting himself just because he's not strong enough to manoeuvre past his sleeping boyfriend. 

He can feel the fullness do his bladder straining against his clothes, stabbing with pain almost every second. He whimpers quietly, wriggling despite himself. God, he can't keep still. "Crowley," he hisses, shaking the demon's arm,"Crowley, wake up!" 

The demon doesn't move a muscle, just continues snoring almost silently, his face not leaving it's cozy position hidden inside the pillow. 

Aziraphale bites his lip, unsure what to do. He can feel the pressure getting worse with every second that passes. There should be a way out of this, he muses, he's an angel after all... if only it weren't so hard to think straight! He squirms a little as his bladder begins to throb dangerously, a pulsing intermittent pain continuously distracting him from formulating any kind of escape plan. 

Aziraphale glance at Crowley once more, continuing to bite his lip subconsciously. He does love the demon.. but he is so clingy in his sleep, as if the absence of physical contact during the day is causing him to require a replacement at night. It's never been a problem before - in fact, Aziraphale quite enjoyed it- until now. 

"Ugh," he groans, pressing his thighs together as his bladder continues to ache horribly. How much did he drink last night? It must've been a lot in order for him to get to this state. It's not like he hasn't experienced similar episodes before.. during insanely long Shakespeare plays and tedious meetings with Gabriel and a few of the other angels who believe they are superior to him. It's not like his previous mishaps even scarred him that much. He didn't like the people he was around back then. If he ended up embarrassing himself, it wasn't too bad. But now.. it's Crowley who's with him, asleep currently, though who knows how long that will last. He cares what Crowley thinks of him. He can't mess everything up now. 

"Crowley!" He exclaims, louder this time, his legs squeezed tightly together under the sheets, as he carefully moves to shake the demon once more. 

Crowley groans sleepily, pressing his face into Aziraphale's neck and rolling even further on top of him, unintentionally pressing onto the angel's 'area'. 

The pressure is almost too much. His eyes widen as he feels a small spurt escape, grossly wet and hit against his thighs. He blows out a long breath, biting his bottom lip so had it starts to bleed. He can feel it, the huge balloon-like shape of pressure in his abdomen, uncomfortably pushing against his pants, and above that, Crowley's leg. Another spike of pain ripples through it and it pools underneath his ass, a hot circle of dampness that causes him to shudder a little. 

"Crowleyyyy~" he whines, wiggling uncontrollably, his hands pushing at the demon's leg as he half shoves it off of himself. He's going to wet himself. 

"Ziraphale....?" Crowley mumbles, opening his eyes a crack, exposing a slither of his beautiful golden eyes. 

"Crowley, move," Aziraphale begs, snaking a guilty hand down to hold himself under the messed up blankets. He can no longer remain still. 

Crowley yawns tiredly, slowly sitting up, his side pressed up against Aziraphale's trembling one. He sighs, blinking a few times, utterly confused. "Zira.. what's wrong?" He questions, frowning at the angel. 

Aziraphale doesn't answer. He has good enough reason not to. He feels as if he's about to piss himself and he physically can't move. All he can do is whimper, his two hands shoves into his crotch as he squirms on top of the mattress. 

It takes a second for Crowley to realise his predicament. "Oh.. you need to.." but he doesn't finish his sentence, only stares at his angel, a combination of pity and interest flicking across his face. He has no idea what he can do, with Aziraphale too far gone to come back from. And even if he did know what to do, he wouldn't actually do it. There's something about the expression on his angel's face that makes him look utterly and deliciously tempting. His screwed up, anxious and frustrated expression is adorable. He's blushing a little, and biting his lip in the cutest way. 

Aziraphale squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his thighs closer together as he prepares to move off of the bed. He knows he's probably too late. But he's trying anyways. He refuses to admit defeat even with the imminent threat of failure. He reaches the end of the mattress and slowly turns so that his legs are dangling over the edge, all without incident. 

He bites down on his lip hard and slowly moves to stand up. It all goes wrong. His bladder contracts immediately, fed up with keeping all the liquid contained for so long. He begins to leak, and doesn't stop. He tries to make it stop, he really does, but he's utterly powerless to do anything as the leak grows and grows, heating up his crotch. Wetness spreads out from between his thighs, beginning to pour down his legs, cutting dark stripes down his white pants. He moans quietly, squeezing his eyes shut, giving into the feeling of release. His cheeks feel as if they're on fire, he's blushing so much. 

Crowley watches with wide, lust filled eyes as his angel slowly wets himself in the middle of their shared bedroom. He finds he can't tear his gaze away from the dark stain as it slowly grows, spreading outwards rapidly. It dribbles down his legs and finally sinks into the carpet. He feels mesmerised. 

When the long stream finally dwindles and becomes only drips, Aziraphale slowly opens his eyes, feeling utterly humiliated. He locks eyes with Crowley. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to.." he mumbles, glancing down in disgust at the puddle of piss beneath him, slowly soaking into the carpet. 

"Don't apologise, angel.." Crowley hisses, grinning triumphantly,"That was the hottest thing I have ever seen,"

Aziraphale merely blushes further, dumbfounded. Crowley isn't mad at him, no, he likes it. Slowly, gingerly, the angel smiles. 

This changes everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make a series of good omens omo but it depends whether this is good good enough...


End file.
